


the duty of lovers (is to tarnish the golden rule)

by yumi_michiyo



Category: Glee
Genre: Bad Puns, Crack, Dressing Room Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11318805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yumi_michiyo/pseuds/yumi_michiyo
Summary: Quinn discovers a few benefits of eating healthy. AU. PWP. Crack.





	the duty of lovers (is to tarnish the golden rule)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Curionenene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curionenene/gifts).



> I asked my friend [Curionenene](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Curionenene/pseuds/Curionenene) for a writing prompt, and by gum, I got one:
> 
> _we're having dance practice and we're doing something stupid for halloween and we're in ridiculous costumes but for some reason i can't stop thinking how cute your ass is in that eggplant outfit_
> 
> Yes I switched it up. Also, I take no responsibility for any hemorrhaging/heart palpitations/eyeball dislocation caused by excessive eyerolling caused by this fic. This is crack porn, and those of you who are familiar with my other Glee and Faberry stories might know that I'm not much good at either.

 "...I can't believe this is my life right now."

Rachel picked dejectedly at the [purple costume](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/18/d0/97/18d0973cd1f4bbc6ba2f1602e2479416.png) she was wearing; Kurt smacked her hand away.

"Stop picking at it. You'll stretch the fabric, and then you'll be Grimace for the show instead of a perky little eggplant, is that what you want?"

She shuddered. "Never say _perky_ and _eggplant_ in the same sentence again."

"Hey, I'm just trying to make it look better." He ran his hand over the side of the costume and made a face. "I don't understand why Isabelle insisted on renting these. I could easily design something functional, flattering, and most importantly; doesn't make you look like a dildo on legs."

"Kurt."

"What?"

"Please stop talking."

"Fine."

Rachel heaved a sigh. "If Isabelle asks you for any more favours, I respectfully suggest you turn her down politely and run for the hills," she muttered, head swiveling to the left and right as she attempted to examine the back of her costume. "I deeply believe in giving back, and sharing my talents with the less fortunate, but I am about to play an _eggplant_." She gave up and faced forward with another dramatically deep sigh. "I may be exceptionally talented, but how does one get into the appropriate frame of mind for accurately portraying a vegetable?"

"Try channelling some of the football jocks we went to high school with," suggested Kurt, "their brain function certainly seems to be on the same level."

Rachel's mouth twitched. "You're terrible."

"But accurate."

"But accurate," she agreed.

Santana chose that moment to burst out of her room, screaming obscenities. Unfortunately, being dressed as a cheerful tomato meant that the threats were received without appropriate levels of fear.

"Such language," said Kurt.

"I'll _language_ you, you –"

"Santana!" gasped Rachel.

Kurt paused in his work to appraise her. "I was fearing the worst, but the colour really does suit you," he commented.

"I hate you both. Why did I let you talk me into this?" she muttered.

Rachel shrugged – or as much as she was able to shrug, while her entire upper body was encased in a purple eggplant frame. "I didn't. Brittany did."

"Because Brittany is playing an adorable parsnip," said Kurt.

Santana's face cycled through a range of emotions; from fury, to fondness, to what was unmistakably –

"You're disgusting," said Rachel, "and have a one-track mind."

"Bite me, Berry. At least my track is way more fun than yours." She smirked, looking as smug as it was possible to be while closely resembling an oversized beach ball.

"Please stop thinking whatever you're thinking, and try not to defile the costumes before we have a chance to put on the show," said Kurt. "There will be _children_ present, for goodness' sake."

Santana scowled.

* * *

If only Mme. LaCroix could see her now.

If only everyone she had bragged to about being a star onstage in New York could see her now.

Really, the only thing that could have made things worse would be if –

"Q! It's good to see you, you bitch," called Santana from somewhere outside. "Your midget's in her dressing room."

Rachel blanched. "... Quinn?"

"Hi, Rachel." Quinn's eyes traveled upwards slowly, taking in every inch of the eggplant costume her girlfriend wore; from the brown bodysuit, to the bulky purple costume, and finally, the green felt hat that topped off the entire thing. "You look… edible."

"I'm an eggplant," she said in an odd little voice. She was certain she was blushing, and hoped the purple face makeup she wore was thick enough to hide it.

Quinn looked like she was on the verge of laughing. "If it's any consolation, you make an adorable eggplant."

The eggplant didn't even smile. Its humiliation was complete.

"Rachel, you're on in ten," said Kurt, popping his head through the ajar door, and the eggplant _would_ have pledged its undying love and loyalty (second only to Quinn of course) to him if he had appeared _just two minutes earlier but_ – apparently, the world was having a field day at its expense.

The eggplant smiled weakly. "Ten," it acknowledged as Kurt disappeared. "If you'd excuse me, Quinn, I need to prepare for my cue."

Quinn's smile widened. "Of course." She flattened herself against the wall (it was a small room, and the eggplant was amply proportioned) to let it pass. "Oh, Rachel…?"

"Yes?"

Quinn leaned in, so her lips brushed the side of the eggplant's ear (or more accurately, where Rachel's ear would be). "I feel like eating vegan tonight."

The eggplant's jaw dropped.

"Break a leg," said Quinn, smiling beatifically, and exited the room.

* * *

The show had gone well. Or as well as it could have been, everything considered; the peapod nearly peed itself out of nerves, the onion cried, the beet got stagefright and was rooted to the spot, the mushroom was crowded off the stage, and the tomato missed its cue, forcing the others to ad-lib so it could catch up.

The eggplant – as expected – was the star of the show. It produced tons of laughter.

Despite getting rave reviews, the eggplant was also exhausted. All it wanted was to peel itself out of the hot and constricting costume and go home. It was infinitely grateful that being in Isabelle Wright's charity show as Isabelle's favourite intern's best friend meant that it got a private dressing room.

It opened the door to find it already occupied.

"Hi," said Quinn, sliding off the table. "You were a-maize-zing out there, baby."

The eggplant winced. "Quinn," it said, "while I appreciate your support, I would appreciate it more if you didn't show it using bad vegetable puns."

"Okay." Quinn had sidled closer in the meantime, her hands sliding over stretchy spandex; the eggplant moaned, hips jerking forward. "I just wanted you to know how a-peel-ing you are in that costume."

"Quinn."

Her lips curved into a smile. "But you love my puns."

"I love them when I haven't spent my evening dressed as an eggplant." The eggplant gasped when slim hands found the seam where the purple eggplant frame sat on its hips, Quinn's thumbs teasing the spandex-covered skin underneath. "God, yes."

"I've been wanting to rip this off you all night," muttered Quinn. "It's criminal to be hiding your neck."

The eggplant, at this point uncontrollably aroused, tried to kiss Quinn, growling angrily when she moved away. "Get back here."

"I want you too, baby, but your – _protuberance_ ," said Quinn, gesturing at the eggplant body and giggling uncontrollably, "is blocking me."

"Help me get it off, oh my god," whimpered the eggplant, almost driven insane by sexual frustration. "The zipper's at the back." It wobbled in a clumsy circle, sighing when the bulky costume fell past her shoulders and over her head. "Finally, I…" Rachel (now no longer an eggplant by any reasonable standards) trailed off when she felt those hands move again, tugging on another zipper. "Quinn, what are you…?"

Her girlfriend's fingers slipped inside the brown bodysuit, up her torso, and cupped her breasts.

" _Quinn_."

"Mmm," purred Quinn in her ear. "No bra? You naughty girl." She punctuated her sentence with a tweak of each nipple.

"No one was gonna see anything under the costume," panted Rachel. "I didn't think it was – oh _god_ don't stop, you – _why did you stop._ " She whined when Quinn's fingers stopped their rolling motion, realising – too late – that the crotch and butt area of the suit were soaked.

"Because I thought I could fuck you instead."

"Oh."

Quinn giggled again, spinning Rachel around to kiss her hungrily. Rachel reciprocated for a few seconds, and pulled away for breath –

"Oh my god."

"What?"

"My makeup. I forgot." Rachel rubbed at Quinn's lips; her fingers came away purple. "Shit."

"Oh no," said Quinn, deadpan, "caught eating berries with Berry juice all over my face. Darn."

"Quinn Fabray!" Rachel smacked at her chest. "Thank you for killing the mood." She pushed her girlfriend off to search for makeup remover wipes. "You look ridiculous."

"You were the one playing a singing eggplant onstage," drawled Quinn, accepting a wipe and rubbing her mouth vigorously. "Takes one to know one."

Rachel would have responded in kind – their verbal sparring had lost most of its animosity over the years and was now mostly foreplay for them – if she hadn't been reminded that the bodysuit she was now wearing was uncomfortably wet, and her body was still pulsating with need. She saw Quinn's eyes darken as her girlfriend noticed the same thing.

"I'm not only braless, you know," purred Rachel, taking a step forward, "because I had anticipated you ambushing me after the show."

Quinn's breathing quickened. Her back was pressed against the dressing room door just as Rachel reached her; very slowly, Rachel shimmied out of the bodysuit, letting it pool at her ankles, finally kicking it off to reveal her lack of panties – and glistening inner thighs.

"Oh god," groaned Quinn. "You're so wet."

"This is all your fault." Rachel ground her hips with deliberate slowness against the front of Quinn's jeans, smirking when Quinn attempted to meet her. "You were the one whispering lewd things into my ear backstage."

"You were like… _that_ , the entire time onstage?" Quinn's face was flushed, her voice strangled, like talking was an immense effort.

"I'm a professional." She pinned Quinn's wrists against the door. "You first."

"That's… not fair…"

Rachel kissed her way down Quinn's neck, enjoying the way her words trailed off into moans by the time she reached Quinn's collarbone. She let go of a wrist to undo the first few buttons of Quinn's shirt, sucking a nipple into her mouth.

Quinn arched into her. Her now-free hand sank into Rachel's hair, keeping her close, nails sinking into Rachel's scalp, urging her tongue to keep swirling around the sensitive nipple.

Rachel lifted her head to switch to the other breast. Quinn's breathing rate increased –

" _Rachel_."

She released the nipple with a faint 'pop'. "Don't move," warned Rachel, both hands now at the fly of Quinn's jeans, roughly cupping her crotch.

A soft mewl escaped Quinn's lips, but she complied. Rachel smirked. "I think," she said, her fingers tracing Quinn's damp panties, "this is the third pair of panties you've ruined this year."

"Shut up and fuck me," groaned Quinn. Both hands were now in Rachel's hair, attempting to pull her girlfriend where she wanted her.

Rachel's thumb grazed her clit. Quinn promptly forgot about pulling Rachel's hair, her head thudding back against the wood of the door.

She inserted a finger into Quinn, starting a slow rhythm, the heel of her hand rubbing Quinn's clit with every upstroke. Quinn's hips started to rock to match her movements.

"Rachel, please."

Rachel was incapable of answering. Her eyes were fixed on Quinn, taking in every inch of her; the sweat-mussed hair, parted lips, the way her body moved shamelessly in search of release. She quickened her rhythm, feeling Quinn shudder and follow.

"Oh, _oh_ –"

Quinn's body tightened, then Rachel was holding on for dear life, riding out Quinn's orgasm with her, hand pumping to prolong it as long as she could. Once Quinn had stopped gasping, Rachel pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You're so beautiful."

Quinn's eyes fluttered open. "Mmm. I love you too." Her arms snaked around Rachel's waist, pulling her flush against Quinn's body.

They kissed lazily for a while more before Quinn's eyes gained focus, sharpening as she looked at Rachel. "You're naked."

Rachel giggled. "So observant." She pressed a kiss under Quinn's jaw.

"I thought I came here to seduce you, not the other way round."

"You were taking your own sweet time getting that costume off me."

"It's all about the teasing, baby." Quinn rolled her eyes. "Give me a moment to catch my breath, and I'll get back on task."

"I'm that good, huh? You – eep!"

Quinn smirked. While Rachel was talking, she'd turned them around so Rachel's back was pressed to the door, her wrists pinned above her head. "You were saying?"

Rachel opened her mouth – and Quinn kissed her hard. She kept one hand on Rachel's wrists as the other traced patterns on the inside of Rachel's right leg.

"Oh god," said Rachel as Quinn's mouth moved down her neck.

"I've missed this," growled Quinn, nipping the junction where Rachel's neck met her shoulder, soothing the spot with her tongue immediately after. "I think I'll take my time."

"Don't you dare, Quinn." Rachel whimpered, attempting to rub herself on Quinn's thigh. She swore when Quinn removed her leg from its spot between both of Rachel's.

"I'm taking care of you," said Quinn firmly. "Let me."

"Then take care of me," hissed Rachel. She tested Quinn's grip on her wrists, to no avail.

"Impatient."

"You started it. You couldn't even wait for me to change."

"Fine. I started it." Two fingers slid over Rachel's pussy lips and thrust in without warning; Rachel's forehead slammed forward into Quinn's chest, and she bit onto her shirt to stay quiet. "Oh god," she moaned into the fabric as Quinn began to pump, adding another finger a short while later. "Don't stop."

Rachel tried to move her hips with Quinn in an effort to get herself off faster; Quinn let go of her wrists to palm her ass. Rachel squeaked in surprise when Quinn squeezed the flesh.

"Finally," Quinn grunted in her ear.

Rachel was in no condition to talk. Her world had narrowed down to the aching need in her core, Quinn's hand moving in and out of her, Quinn's lips on her neck, _Quinn_.

With that thought, she tumbled off the edge, rocking her body into Quinn's as white-hot pleasure filled her senses.

"Oh god," said Rachel again, once she'd regained her powers of speech. It seemed like the right thing to say.

Quinn giggled. "You always say that," she muttered fondly, brushing hair out of Rachel's sweaty face, leaning forward to steal a kiss.

"I always mean it." Rachel walked away on still-wobbly legs – very aware of the smug smile on Quinn's face – to get her street clothes from the closet. "Let's take this home, I'm not done with you yet."

"Neither am I." Quinn eyed the discarded eggplant costume on the floor. "I really hope you're not keeping that."

"No, of course not. What, do you wanna roleplay as a starving vegan?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "No, but I did promise you I would go vegan tonight." She grinned at Rachel, running the tip of her tongue over her lips with careful slowness. Rachel nearly walked into her closet door.

"Uh, well, I'd hate to disappoint you," she said, licking her own suddenly-dry lips. "But only if we can swap later on. As the true vegetarian, I would love to sample this… tasty morsel." Rachel slipped her hand down the front of Quinn's still-open jeans, swiping her fingers through her girlfriend's wet heat; she withdrew her hand, and still holding Quinn's heated gaze, sucked each finger clean.

" _Fuck_ ," breathed Quinn, eyes never leaving Rachel's hand.

"I intend to. Over and over again."

Quinn finally tore her gaze away, smile turning wicked. "Then, _lettuce_ get a move on."

Rachel groaned. "Enough with the fucking vegetable puns!"

"But baby, I _was_ fucking a vegetable five minutes ago!"

"You have issues." Rachel threw her girlfriend's scarf at her and pushed her out the door; Quinn cackled nonstop the entire time.

**Author's Note:**

> For their exit, imagine [this scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pHSXySl3r0g) but with Rachel instead of Sam, and you're good to go.


End file.
